Once Again
by SwingLifeAwayMyDarling
Summary: ONCE AGAIN IS CURRENTLY BEING EDITED AND IS OFFICIALLY ON HIATUS UNTIL NOTIFIED OTHERWISE. Thank you and sorry.


It was a quiet December evening, snow falling softly around the sleeping village of Vladmeer. The gate keeper of the village was huddled into his cloak attempting to keep warm while rocking back and forth in his chair humming a cheery tune. The sound of an approaching horse back rider caught his attention and he stood.

Holding the faintly glowing yellow lantern high above his head he shouted into the night.

"Who goes there?"

A woman sitting astride a powerful black horse rode up, her face shrouded by the hood attached to the wine-colored velvet cape that swirled around her .Beneath the hood her lips turned up in wicked sneer.

"Aiedail…" He breathed. "You have returned."

"It's good to be back, Azorean. Thank you for such a… convivial welcome. Speak of it to no one" She breathed in. "Come Sapherith. Fayerend will be fine alone. I told her to wait."

A pale boy with jet black hair and cat like green eyes stepped around the body, his simple movements fluid and graceful. He wore a white linen shirt tucked into the waist of gypsy pants that were stuffed into knee high leather boots.

Sapherith cocked his head up to look at her with probing eyes.

_Why do you hide yourself Aiedail? These people love you._

Aiedail's eyes shone in the darkness that hid her face.

"Yes, old friend. But I am not here to visit. I am here searching for a great Rider of legend and old tale. Your father knew him. He fought with him against Galbatrix before the new Empire was founded. And Arya also knew him. He loved her…but she refused him. For a time anyway. That old seer, Angela told them that their destinies were entwined."

The horse's hooves left deep prints in the undisturbed snow as they stole through the one road in the village like ghosts. They stopped at a small house the edge of the village and Aiedail dismounted in a flurry of burgundy fabric and snow.

She unceremoniously swept into the one room hut, surveying it with lack of interest. A crude wooden table and one chair sat near the small fireplace. A black pot hung from its hook over the fire, the aroma of the meager meal cooking in it wafting throughout the room. Against the opposite wall lay a small cot. A lump assumed to be a body by Aiedail stirred under the muddy colored wool blanket.

With unfaltering steps she strode over to the makeshift bed, seized the covers in a claw-like grasp and yanked. A large pair of brown eyes stared up at her under a tangled mop of brown hair. He looked as beautiful as an elf but more rugged, stubble caressing his jaw. The man yawned and stretched like a cat, not at all put out by the unexpected visitors. He stood up and went over to the pot, stirring it and placing a lid over it.

With a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes he sat down at the table and leaned forward a bit on his elbows, his fingers rubbing gently over the pointed tips of his ears.

"Well as startling as your appearance is strangers, I must admit it's nice to have visitors. Will you be staying for supper?" He asked with light humor in his voice. "The meal will be small, so your portions won't be large but it is filling. Once you get past the gristles in the meat."

Sapherith looked at the man with a mixture of incredulity, curiosity and respect. He wondered if the man in front of them was mad. He looked at Aiedail and saw her mouth hanging open in astonishment.

She pulled the hood away from her face with amazing calm though Sapherith could see her hands shaking in cold fury at this mans offhanded manner.

A chilling look of recognition fell over the man's face and he paled considerably, leaning away from Aiedail.

"Arya…" He murmured a look of pure trepidation in his eyes.

"No. Arya is one of my people. Though many people say that I look like her." She said indifference in her voice.

"Yes. The raven black curls, green eyes, perfectly pointed ear, flawless completion. Yes, you look like Arya. The spitting image of her." He breathed and the apprehension in his eyes turned to misery. "You have a harder, more beautiful face though. As if you've seen too much for you age. And there is a crueler edge to your mouth, as if you have seen much hardship. Arya had a gentle face. She had a gentle yet proud spirit as well. She was loyal to her people."

Aiedail shifted uncomfortably under the man's pursuit. Her face betrayed no emotion though her disquiet radiated from her being.

"I look like Arya but I am not her. For physical appearance Arya's eyes are green mine are violet. Her skin is also not as light as mine. Loyal to her people she might have been but she chose a life without them when she lived in this village. Not so loyal now is she?"

A smirk came over her face when the man's mouth pulled into a tight white line.

"How is Arya? Well I hope."

"Arya is fine. She now resides with the elves that are her people. The reason I am here is not to discuss her though. The people of Ellsemera request your presence."

He eyed her warily, his face no longer joking.

"Do you know who I am? Surely you must otherwise you would not be here," He murmured slowly. "I am a legend among your people. Among all the people's across many lands. The last of few who still ride. And my brother Murtagh and his dragon, Thorn, are also known, though not as a hero."

Her eyes narrowed as he spoke and she nodded impatiently when he finished.

"I know who you are Shur' tugal Eragon. Your victory against Galbatrix is greatly known amongst the Dwarfs, Elves and many other creatures against and with him. But that is not of concern as I said before. There was another dragon egg recovered from him. The dragon was born and chose me as its Rider."

She paused and waited for a response. Eragon's eyes had misted over and he looked shocked and calm at the same time. He reached up and touched the amulet around his neck.

"What's your dragon's name?"

"Fayerend."

"What does she look like?"

Seeing the pain in Eragon's eyes she felt pity and indulged his curiosity with a gentler voice.

"She is magnificent. Her scales are silver and they gleam in the sun like precious metals mined in the caves of Tronjheim where King Hrothgar resides. She has eyes of the purest blue. Unusual yes but beautiful. And when she flies…you can feel her muscle rippling beneath your legs. When she spreads her wings…there is no feeling like it. It is almost like you're -"

"Like you're one with the dragon. I remember; the feeling of the air rushing through you, around you; the beating of her wings in your ears. There is nothing like it. Nothing in the world like it."

He hid his face from them then, his shoulders hunched as he leaned into his hands. Muffled sobs could be heard and Aiedail shifted uncomfortably.

"Do you accept this invitation Shur' tugal?" She asked, hardness returning to her voice and face.

He nodded. "Yes, I will come and visit once more the forests of Du Weldvarden. To see Arya if nothing else."

She gave him a stiff smile disturbed by the feelings her roused in her. Normally she was not so open to emotion. "There is a purpose for you when you arrive. Orimis is dead. Though you know that, don't you. His dragon now lives in the darkest depths of Du Weldvarden, wasting away to nothingness. He would do well to see you again, though he will not survive."

"This is the only reason you have for me, leaving Carhvall?"

"No. But that is one. You need not be worried about the other."

Eragon frowned and looked into her eyes, probing with his mind. She gasped as the pain flooded through her but allowed him to look and see that she meant no harm to him. Panting she spoke, reassuring him of her intent.

"I make a vow not to harm you Shadeslayer. That would be against my honor and my people. Please…"

He withdrew from her mind, still eyeing her with question.

"Well, your entrance would suggest otherwise. Rarely have I seen an elf so…hard, almost cruel. Why do you seem this way to me?"

She winced. "Though my race is known for its kindness and gentleness, there are those of us who would still keep a tight guard on our emotions. Especially those who have loved and lost that love. But surely you know of Arya's own disposition to be…as you say harder, and cruel."

"No. Arya was never cruel. A bit of an attitude she did posses, but cruel? Never. She loved her people but kept her opinions, stating them freely when she though appropriate."

"Yes, you are right. I apologize, Shur' tugal. Please let us start again," She murmured, and touching her fingers to her lips, she greeted him in elvish. "Atra esterní ono thelduin."

He did the same, repeating the verses that he had so long ago spoken. "Atra du evarínya ono varda."

"Un atra mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr."

"Now I see that you are of no harm to me. But what of your friend? He is a werecat is he not? I knew a werecat once. His name was Solembum."

Sapherith nodded. "He was my father."

Aiedail shuffled her feet and cleared her throat. "We must leave. Now. It is of the utmost importance."

Eragon moved quickly, gathering his pack and several of his other possessions. Going to a chest by the wall, he unlocked it and pulled out Zar'roc, lovingly caressing the leather sheath it rested in. Pulling it out, he ran his hand along the red blade with a longing in his eyes.

Aiedail cocked her head and looked at him. "How long has it been?"

"Too long," he murmured, re-sheathing it and belting it around his hips.

Curios she held out her hand. "May I?"

Reluctantly, he pulled the sword from the scabbard and handed it to her. She grasped the hilt in her left hand, running her right over the blade. She took stance, holding Zar'roc in front of her, palm resting against the side of the sword. Swinging it in an arch above her head she brought it down as if decapitating an enemy soldier.

She handed Zar'roc back as if it burned, suddenly and quickly. "Misery. You wield it well Shadeslayer, and with courage."

"Thank you Vinr Älfakyn. Please, let us depart," he said, heading towards the door. "Oh…wait. I have to get Snowfire."

Sapherith grinned. "The horse is already saddled Shur' tugal Eragon.

Eragon spoke his appreciation, put on his cape with a swirling motion. Pulling his cape over his head, he opened the door and stepped out into the snow. Before following him Aiedail held out her hand, muttered a short spell and pulled her hand down extinguishing the flame in the fire place. Eragon rushed back in but seeing the fire was out, turned to her and smiled.

"I forgot to put the fire out."

Aiedail snorted. "Something I think you often do. It was a good thing that I am here then. Now let us go. We shouldn't waste time dawdling."

They strode out of the house and mounted their horses, riding out of the village in a flurry of snow.


End file.
